


Love Me Softly

by yodelingpro



Category: Supernatural
Genre: A little bit of fluff, Angst, Depression, Destiel - Freeform, Destiel One Shot, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, M/M, One Shot, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sam's dead, Sorry Not Sorry, The trials killed Sam, sad shmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-31
Updated: 2014-08-31
Packaged: 2018-02-15 11:51:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2228007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yodelingpro/pseuds/yodelingpro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel finds Dean having a breakdown in their kitchen four months after the trials are over and Sam has died. They comfort each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Me Softly

**Author's Note:**

> Here's a one shot that I just thought of that I needed to get out of my system. I can turn it into a story possibly. Enjoy!
> 
> Thank you to my friend Stacey for editing and reading over this as well!

Castiel wakes suddenly, gripping the sheets that are thrown over him. He kicks them off when he feels himself sweating and panting. Moonlight is shining through the window, casting an almost eerie aura around the room. He searches the bed frantically even though he knows he’s the only one occupying it. The imprint on the other side of the bed isn’t there anymore. He shivers suddenly, and feels very alone.

“It was only a dream,” he mutters to himself as he swings his legs over the side of the blue bed. He goes to the closet and pulls out a navy blue sweater, tugging it over his head and rumpling his already messy bedhead. He looks around and doesn’t see Dean’s slippers on the hardwood. He heads out of the master bedroom and turns on the hallway light. It’s empty as well, and so are the office and the guest room when he scans it.

“Dean?” He calls, making his way to the stairs. Castiel steps down into the entrance hall, and hears clinking from the kitchen.

“I’m in here, Cas,” Dean says. Castiel treads quietly to the kitchen doorway, and sees Dean ripping apart lettuce with spinach in a steel bowl. 

“What are you doing?” Castiel asks as he rubs his face tiredly. 

“Making a salad,” is the curt reply. Dean moves to the cutting board, and starts chopping a red bell pepper. Castiel enters the room more and observes Dean. He appears to be shaking.

“Why?” Castiel questions warily. Dean doesn’t say anything, just keeps cutting the pepper. 

“Because I’m hungry, and losing my grip on reality,” he whispers. Castiel has to strain to hear Dean, and when he does, his heart shatters a little. Dean stops chopping and gathers the small bits of pepper, tossing the in the bowl. He goes to the pantry after and grabs seasoned pecans. He pops one in his mouth before putting a handful in the bowl.

“But you dislike salad,” Castiel states. Dean’s shoulders start shaking, his back facing Castiel. Dean never shows emotions. He says it leaves him too vulnerable and weak. What does it matter anymore though? They’re retired from hunting, retired from saving the world. They’re renting this house because they thought maybe the domestic lifestyle would suit them, but it’s hardly working out. Dean is struggling with depression, though he says he’s not. He sometimes slips, and won’t do things for days. Sometimes, he thinks Sam is still around. He’ll talk to no one in particular.

Castiel isn’t much better than Dean. Castiel has nightmares almost every night, and with his grace gone, forcing him to learn human ways, he’s trying to cope without any powers. He’s a wreck as well, trying to keep a grip on the real world. He feels an unbearable amount of guilt at not being there when Sam died, for not being able to save him. Dean is the same way, but had it happened a little bit earlier, Castiel could’ve saved him, somehow. He would’ve found a way. He would try to correct everything he’d messed up. Of course, it was too late. 

After the trials were over, Dean and Castiel found their way back to each other by some miracle. Dean had fallen into Castiel’s arms, trying so very hard not to shed tears. Castiel felt partially empty and just uncomfortable in his own skin. He avoided his own feelings in order to pay attention to Dean, who had been shaking like he is now. Dean seemed like he was four years old again. Castiel remembered him muttering, “It should have been me, it should have been me, it should have been me…”

Castiel surges forward, being brought back to reality when he hears a broken sob escape Dean. He pulls Dean into him, who turns around and buries his face into Castiel’s neck. Hot tears spill onto his neck. Castiel still isn’t used to Dean being like this, even though it’s been a few months. Dean always had the strong persona around him, and now it’s cracked, only put up again when people come over or they go out.

“I don’t know what the hell I’m still doing here, Cas,” Dean sobs. 

Castiel rubs circles between Dean’s shoulder blades and begins rocking him gently, like a mother does do to a newborn.

In the four months that Castiel has been a human, he’s learned that these creatures crave touching. It doesn’t really matter what it is, be it holding their hands, poking their shoulders, kissing their jaws, or simply leaning on each other, they desire it like they require air. Castiel felt out of place when he first experienced the feeling of loneliness and the need to be touched. He remembers the day he reached out to Dean. They were sitting in a motel room, watching a show about cars, and he wanted something, but couldn’t quite tell what it was. He looked at Dean, who was half asleep even though it was three in the afternoon. Then, ever so slowly, he inched closer until he was in the middle of the bed, right beside the other man. He leaned his head on Dean’s shoulder and even though Dean tensed at first, he relaxed after a second and placed his arm around Castiel’s shoulders, pulling him into Dean’s chest. Castiel was able to hear his heart speed up as his arms wrapped around Dean’s torso. They continued to watch TV until Dean fell asleep; his face nestled in Castiel’s hair.

Castiel kisses Dean’s temple now, and even though he’s quieted a bit, he’s still vibrating slightly. Dean moves to sit on the white tiled floor, crossing his legs as he does, and tugging gently on Castiel’s hand. Castiel sits down opposite him, imitating his position. Dean links his pinky through Castiel’s, staring at their hands for a moment. A tear drops from his eye, rolling down his cheek.

“I miss him so much, Cas,” Dean murmurs, and breathes shakily to calm himself. “Sometimes it’s like Sam is still around.”

“I know, Dean,” Castiel says gently. He rubs Dean’s thumb with his own. Then he decides to pull Dean’s hand up to his mouth so he can place a comforting kiss on it. Castiel holds Dean’s hand between his own, and rests his chin on them, setting his elbows on his knees. 

“I sometimes go to the phone to call up Bobby, only to realize he won’t pick up,” Dean laughs bitterly. He wipes his nose on the sleeve of his Henley, and then sniffs.

Castiel stirs, missing Bobby as well. Castiel misses a lot of people. He and Dean have been trying to build a new life in some suburb in Colorado for the past three months, but with both of them struggling with changes, they’ve had difficulties. Dean is always saying how this domestic life makes him feel antsy, so occasionally he leaves. Sometimes he’s gone for days, and once he disappeared for two weeks. Even though Castiel hates it when Dean left, he still waits for Dean to come back home. Castiel suspects Dean travels to the bunker during the time he’s vacant from the house in Colorado. He also thinks that he might go on hunts like he used to. Castiel never really knows, and he’s worried about him always.

“Cas?” Dean’s voice is soft now, and not cracking and quaky. He’s looking at Castiel unsurely, his eyes growing tired.

“Yes, Dean?” Castiel holds his gaze with Dean. He feels exhausted and wants to crawl back into their queen sized bed, but doesn’t because Dean needs him right now, and that’s all that matters. 

He licks him lips before asking cautiously, “You won’t ever leave me, will you?”

Castiel looks at him softly and whispers, “I couldn’t if I tried, Dean.”

Dean nods slowly at that, then with a determined look, leans over onto his knees and presses his lips to Castiel’s. Just like every other time they’ve kissed, Castiel feels his insides melt a little, which he thought was a medical thing at first. He told Dean about it, and Dean had just laughed and kissed Castiel softly, effectively shutting any train of thought up. 

Kissing Dean is like seeing snow for the first time, mesmerizing and magical. It is a deep breath after being underwater for a long time. Castiel doesn’t ever tire of Dean, and he hopes it’s the same way for Dean. When Dean whispers anything in Castiel’s ear, he closes his eyes because he knows Dean is going to kiss him the spot right below his ear, very gently, like a whisper itself. He feels so incredibly important when Dean stares at him. He loves him so much it makes his whole being ache.

“Sorry for waking you,” Dean says as he pulls away, leaving Castiel feeling cold.

“I had a nightmare. You didn’t wake me,” Castiel says and yawns.

“Sorry I wasn’t there when you woke up,” Dean frowns.

Castiel shrugs one shoulder. “Let’s just go back to bed,” he suggests. He looks up at the salad bowl on the counter, waiting to be eaten. “I’ll deal with the salad in the morning.”

Dean laughs and rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, okay.”

Castiel stands and pulls Dean up, giving him a quick kiss the leads him out of the kitchen and up to their bedroom, where they curl around each other and attempt to sleep to keep their demons at bay.


End file.
